Sleepless
by ReadingFrenzie
Summary: Paul Percy platonic oneshot for rach.


**A/N: some paul-percy bonding for innoverse/sallyjacksoning/rachel-i love you, youre a great gal :)**

* * *

After Percy had returned, the changes were more than obvious, but nobody knew how to approach it. The jittery sense that followed him, like he always had his guard up. How he still had his sense of humour, but it had turned more dark than blunt. That weird thing he did at every doorway now-like his body wasn't sure if he could pass the threshold or not so there was a hesitant step each time he left or entered a room. And then the panic attacks were a whole nother story. They weren't crys of pain, or shouts for Annabeth, but silent shaking and gripping-and if there was nothing to grip his fingernails would dig into his hand as he made a fist. Percy now had a bloody palm or his hands around an end table every other day at least.

At first it was enough to let Annabeth be over at night, as long as one of them slept on the couch of course-something that couldn't last forever. Then it was enough if he had his light on, sword next to him, and a way to reach her-but soon enough everyone knew that it was just a temporary solution to a_ very_ permanent problem. A problem that both of the couple had...

Paul trys to stay out of it. He doesn't quite_ ignore_ it, but he doesn't bring it up-just kind of tip-toes around it. And then there was a night, somewhere around three thirty in the morning. Paul couldn't sleep, he had some professional development meeting tomorrow and was nervous, even though he'd been teaching for so many years. He didn't even think twice when he shuffled into the kitchen, trying to find something to drink, maybe to help him sleep. Then he'd seen Percy. A glass of water sat on the counter, probably what he had come in here for, but now the young man was clinging to the countertop on the island and his head inbetween his hands, looking down at the white tile.

Paul stopped in the doorway for just a quick second, deciding on what to do. He came up to Percy, placing a hand on his back. He was pleasantly surprised when Percy didn't jump, something he'd do almost every other time he was tapped or touched. There was honestly no reaction. He just continued to stare at the tile between his hands that clutched to granite counter. After a long three minutes, Percy had started to shake a bit, and then stood up normally to look at Paul.

His eyes were red, clearly he had cried or tried to supress it recently. His voice came out irregular and he didn't meet his step-dad's eyes, "s-so-sorry."

Paul shook his head, he had no reason to be sorry. "It's alright..." he considered placing a hand on his shoulder so that he could meet his eyes, but decided that what he was going to ask might be easier if he didn't, "How're holding up? You know, now that..." His voice faded, unsure. He had never aknowleged what was going on directly to Percy before.

For a second Paul thought that he'd get no response-that he'd just leave the room to sit on his balcony like he would when there was nothing else to do at night. Percy cleared his throat, "Not that great if you can imagine." He tried to pull a slight grin, but it looked like he tried to smile and just couldn't muster the rest.

They were now simply observing each other as they talked, "I know that thing have been hard, probably worse then me, your mom, or anyone knows...but you _are_ pulling through," Paul placed his hand on Percy's shoulder now, wanting him to see in his eyes how much he meant what he was saying, "And everyone that cares about you is this big mix of proud, sad, confused, and worried for you because of how you've changed." His voice lowers, a sense of strength now put into his words, "but within all of those things, there's the _proud_...me, your mom, Annabeth, god, everyone that's known you-can tell how far you've come. And we all know how much further you can pull through." He takes his hand away from his step-son and leans on the other counter behind him, "I don't think you've noticed that though-huh?"

Paul can _hear_ him swallow harshly with how silent the house has become, "No...I-I didn't." His eyes flicker to the tile and back up to his dad, "But thanks...alot." He tensly comes up to him and gives him a hug, nevertheless a regular man-hug which is more like and attack than display of affection, but it was followed by a quiet, "Thanks dad."

With that he retreated to his room, pausing at both doorways, taking a step back, and then going through. Paul proceeded to get a glass of warm milk and a snack of a blue cookie, walking back to his and Sally's room he thinks to himself, _No problem, son._

* * *

**A/N: okay, yeah, short, but it's my first fic on this kind of thing in a LONG time-but i had some fun writing it. :)**


End file.
